Improbable
by keelhaulrose
Summary: Sequel to 'Impossible'. Hermione erased herself from Spencer's memory in the hopes of keeping him safe, but seven months later is realizing she made a mistake. Now she's joining the BAU for a year in the hopes of fixing her mistake, but doesn't realize that she may not be as much a stranger to Spencer as she thought. HG/SR. Rated for language, slight violence, and adult situations
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, I've gotten some... let's call them strong requests to start posting this, so I figured I could go back to my old masochistic ways and have two WIPs in the pipeline. As always, I can make no promises as to updates, as it's not totally written and with two children my RL takes over at times.**

******For those who don't know, this is a sequel to my earlier work, 'Impossible'.** At the end of that story Hermione was forced to make the decision to wipe Spencer's memory of her or stay with him. In the epilogue of Impossible I wrote it as though she decided to stay. This story is what would happen if she had tried to modify his memory (and how well that works on someone with an eidetic memory).  


**I'm going to explain that when I started writing this it was right before the JJ/Prentiss leaving/coming back thing, so before Blake and Seaver entered and, in Seaver's case, left. I re-worked it twice to deal with these casting changes, then decided to cut Prentiss mostly out, and put JJ in somewhat of a background role for the sake of my sanity. It was also before the whole thing with Maeve. I have thought about it, and decided to keep it the way I started writing it, just because I have a lot done and I don't feel any of those situations detracts from the story, nor would it add much to it.**

**Legalities: I do not own Harry Potter or Criminal Minds. I own none of the characters, nor fictional places. I am making no profit off this.**

**And now, on to the story.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"There is love, of course. And then there is life, its enemy." -Jean Anouilh

"Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation." -Kahlil Gibran

She didn't want to open her eyes. She knew what she would see, and the thought of it would only make her upset. There was a naked man in her bed, she knew that much. He never left after they slept together, despite the fact that neither one of them considered the relationship anything more than 'friends with benefits'. He usually wore himself out during sex and preferred not to get out of bed. If she allowed herself to sleep past six, she might be able to miss him, he usually had a morning Quidditch practice a few time zones away. Their arrangement was mutual, born from the idea that neither one could be with who they really wanted to wake up next to. Krum had been seeing a pretty Pureblood girl named Aria, who he had cheated on and who left him. He begged her forgiveness, but she moved on and started seeing another man. After that Krum was in no mood to form any type of emotional attachment to any woman, but he was more than willing to sleep with Hermione, who was trying to escape the pain of leaving Spencer behind, though she was better about hiding her reasons than Viktor was. He thought it was something about Ron, but he didn't ask. She had never breathed a word about Spencer to Krum, he didn't need to know.

Modifying Spencer's memory was the most difficult thing she ever had to do, because every cell in her body screamed at her not to. It was the thought that next time he might not be hit by only a bullet, but rather something she couldn't save him from, that forced her decision, but as the seven months since she had left Chicago passed she got the feeling that perhaps she had made a monumental mistake. Before she left she made sure that not a single person in the BAU knew anything about her, so she was secure in the knowledge that Spencer wouldn't be able to pick her from a lineup, but that thought was more upsetting than reassuring nowadays.

"Good morning," Krum muttered into her hair before he kissed her shoulder.

"Morning," she mumbled, shrinking away from the intimate gesture. As much as they slept together, Hermione was still uncomfortable with kissing, and she and Viktor hadn't kissed on the lips since their arrangement started. Viktor was happy being able to kiss her everywhere else, and she felt it kept their relationship casual.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked.

"I'm fine. You?"

"I am feeling like I don't vant to be leaving the bed. Perhaps you could be late for vork today?"

"Not today. Minister Shacklebolt requested a meeting with me this morning."

"Vhy are you haffing to meet with him?"

"I'm not sure. Don't you have Quidditch practice?"

"It is Monday. I am not haffing practice Monday mornings, remember?" he raised an eyebrow in concern. Hermione was not known for not remembering the details.

She used the bathroom to freshen up and do her makeup quickly. She walked back into the room and started to pull clothes out of the closet and underwear from a drawer. "Well, I do have to go in today, but feel free to help yourself to breakfast, and make sure the doors are locked before you leave?"

"Sure. Vhen vill I be seeing you again? Tonight?"

"Er, no. Tonight's a bad night for me," she said vaguely. She didn't want to tell him that she had a date that night, her ninth since Chicago. There was no point in telling him, because there was a probability that tonight would be both a first and a last date. They never lasted more than one night. They were too aggressive, too confident, too unintelligent, too not... They just weren't the one she was looking for, the one she was pining for. "You have a game Wednesday night, don't you?"

"Yes. Ve are traveling to Japan tomorrow night."

"Thursday, then? If I don't have to go on assignment. There's something brewing in Guatemala, I may have to go," she said, pulling her dress over her head and making sure it was in place before pulling a pair of shoes from her organizer.

"That is alright," he said, standing to wrap his arms around her.

"Have a nice day off," she forced a smile up at him, giving him a quick hug, then slipping away to leave.

"Who is Spencer?" he asked as she walked out of the room.

She stopped dead and turned to look at him. "Excuse me?"

"Spencer? You vere saying his name last night."

"Last night? When we were...?"

"Once, then three more times vhen you vere asleep. Who is Spencer?"

"Someone I met on a case in Chicago," she responded vaguely without looking at him.

"Vas he a friend?"

"You could say that."

His eyebrow cocked up as he looked at her skeptically. "Vas he more?"

"You don't need to worry about it, Viktor."

"You know vot happened to me. Vhy can you not be honest vith me?"

She sighed. "Yes. He was something more. And now he doesn't know I exist."

"You changed his memory?"

"Yes. To protect him. It's dangerous being with me."

"Not too dangerous," he murmured, kissing her shoulder. "You haff a nice day at vork. I vill Floo you Thursday."

"Looking forward to it," she lied. She strode through the apartment, and Flooed to the Ministry. There she took a moment to compose herself before striding across the large entrance hall to the lifts. Instead of getting off at level two she rode to level one, and was striding towards Kingsley's office as soon as the doors opened. She was welcomed by a plump, sweet secretary who handed her a cup of coffee, which she had been drinking religiously for the last seven months. All the support staff on levels one and two knew exactly how she took it, light on the cream, extra sugar first thing in the morning.

"He's waiting for you," she said, nodding towards Kingsley's door.

"Thank you," Hermione muttered, opening the ornate wooden door and slipping into the Minister's office. As soon as she entered her stomach sank. Kingsley was not the only one waiting for her. Harry was sitting on one of the two chairs set up across the desk, and he looked concerned. Without a word she walked across the room and took a seat. The silence was deafening as she stared at her cup of coffee rather than look at either man who had called her in for an interrogation.

"Good morning, Ms. Granger," Kingsley was the first to speak.

"Good morning, Minister," she replied curtly. "Potter," she added with venom.

"'Mione..." Harry looked at her with pleading eyes. "Please, Hermione. Hear us out."

"What's going on?" she said, not daring to look up.

"Hermione," Kingsley said softly, soothingly. "Harry and I have both noticed some changes in you recently. We're concerned for your physical and emotional well-being."

"What changes have you noticed?" she asked, not wanting to confess to anything they didn't know about, lest they realize how close to the edge she really was.

"Your work has slipped..."

"That's bollocks," she snapped.

"Hermione..." Harry moaned.

"No. My work has not slipped. I have solved every bloody case I have gone on since that one in Chicago, not to mention I've created over a hundred other profiles for various Ministries around the world. I get my bloody job done!" her voice grew higher the angrier she got.

"The average time it took you to complete a case was three days before Chicago," Kingsley said, sounding as business-like as possible despite the fatherly look of concern on his face. "It's been nearly double that since then."

"Have you considered that perhaps I've been taking more difficult cases?" she snapped.

"You let the one slip by you in Moscow..."

"I managed to get him before he killed again! Moscow sends me a request for assistance a month, they don't want to do their own bloody work. They're all starting to blend together, and I admit I made a mistake. But I corrected it. He's dead now."

"You wouldn't have had to kill him if you had waited for the Aurors."

"If you think my job is so bloody easy, why don't you come back to the office, Kingsley? I'm doing this whole damn load all by myself. No one wants anyone but the great Hermione Granger taking care of their cases, so I can't even delegate some of the simpler cases. Have you ever considered that I'm completely overworked?" she said, her face growing more red by the second.

"You have also been turning down invitations to spend time together," Harry whispered.

"These two things wouldn't be correlated now, would they? Incredibly large workload and less free time? There couldn't possibly be a damn connection now, could there?" she scoffed.

"Hermione, I know about Krum," he said sharply, looking her in the eye.

She set her jaw and refused to speak.

"Ginny found out. News travels fast around the Quidditch league. You're not seeing him, you would have let us know. You're just sleeping with him. That's not like you, Hermione."

"You're being awfully presumptuous about my life, Potter," she snarled.

"We all know what's going on here," he whispered, trying not to sound hurt. "You're not happy."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she feigned ignorance.

"Yes you do. You're still wearing his necklace," he whispered.

Her fingers automatically went to her neck, twisting the small pendant that she hadn't taken off in seven months.

"Hermione, you know the rules as well as I do," Kingsley spoke up. "If you were to..."

"I did what I did for a reason," she said icily, eyes staring back at her coffee. "It was for his protection."

"You know you can protect him."

"I know that I travel a lot, and that a few minutes can make a whole lot of difference."

"We'll make special precautions..."

"No. He's better off."

"Do you really believe that?" Harry asked.

She looked up at him. "He's in the same place he was before he met me, except for maybe a couple scars. He doesn't know who Hermione Granger is. That's the best thing for him."

"He was happy, too."

She bit her lip and looked away.

"What are you really thinking, Hermione?" Kingsley asked.

Her resolve finally crumbled. "That I made a mistake," she responded, barely above her breath. "That I have problems focusing because I'm thinking about him, wondering if I should have stayed."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. I can't just go over there and lift the spell. What the hell am I supposed to tell him? What if he's moved on? What if he's too angry at me for what I did? We were both under incredible amounts of stress when it happened, perhaps he would have different feelings for me now that we're not chasing down a serial killer."

"Would you, perhaps, like some time off from the Ministry?"

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean that perhaps you have been working a bit too hard. We all need to spend some time doing something we don't normally do, just a way to avoid a burnout by experiencing something new and different. Or something close, but essentially different."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused.

"Would you consider joining the FBI for a little while?"

"Excuse me?" she asked in shock.

"It's something we do from time to time. To experience how the Muggles run their law enforcement agencies and perhaps bring back ideas. So you being pulled off your regular duties and spending a year shadowing, say, the BAU team wouldn't be anything but normal operating procedure for us."

"You would be able to get me into the FBI?"

"We've done it before. Normally we send someone to their training academy like any other recruit, but we're wizards and witches. We can get you in anywhere we want you to. We'll have to make up some background information, and it'll take some fake records in the right places, not to mention finding you a place to live, but you should be able to leave in three days. All I need is for you to say go."

Her mouth was hanging open, her mind moving quicker than it had been for a while. So much could go wrong with this plan, not the least of which was that she had no idea if Spencer was seeing someone else, or that he would have no interest in her without the stress-situation on their shoulders. But then again, her mind couldn't help but wander to what could go right with the plan, imagine the thought of Spencer's arms around her once again...

"Of course, I can only guarantee you a year. That's all part of a the 'exchange' program we've devised. They get your service and experience a year for the cost of any conventions or boarding for a case you may go on, we still pay your salary, you get the experience of working in a different country with a different style of team. I can only promise you that year if you expect to return to your job as it stands now. The Ministry doesn't want to pay for more training that that. If you so choose to stay you're on your own, you'll have to hand in your resignation to the Ministry and get hired by the FBI on your own merits."

"Does anyone ever take that route?" Harry asked, giving Hermione more time to think.

"More than you'd think, actually," he nodded. "It's more rare for one to settle down in a different country, but there are two former American Aurors in the FBI, one at Quantico if I remember correctly, one of our former Aurors is a detective for Scotland Yard, and you'd be surprised at the number of Squibs in the military. Some witches and wizards cannot resist the simplicity of a Muggle lifestyle, and prefer not to involve themselves in the Magical world anymore."

"I'll do it," Hermione whispered. "I want to go."

"I thought you would," Kingsley said with a smile. "I have the paperwork ready for you. But you do understand there are limitations to this. You are to assign your case files to other Aurors, or, in the case of international cases, send them back to their respective Ministries. You don't need to explain where you are going, other than an 'extended leave of absence'. After you leave you are not to use magic unless you are in the privacy of your own home or in a life-threatening situation. This means you have to live your life outside of your walls as a Muggle. Even if you start seeing Spencer, you know the rules. Unless the situation becomes... intimate," he stressed the word, looking her in the eyes, "you are not to reveal that you're a witch to him. You slipped past that rule when you were in Chicago, and I smoothed things over because of the circumstances, but don't expect me to do that again."

"I won't, sir."

"The hardest thing that you'll have to remember is that they don't," he added. "When they learn your name, it'll be the first time they've heard it in their lives. They'll have never seen your face before. You are something completely new, with a new background and a new life that they don't know anything about. And, until tomorrow, you won't know anything about, either. I expect you to fill out the forms for an extended leave of absence as soon as I leave this office to go set this up."

"I will, sir," she said, starting to feel nervous about her decision. It sounded so easy when all she could think about was seeing Spencer again.

"While you're filling out the paperwork I'll go speak to the Obliviators, the Muggle Liaison office, and Proudfoot. Together we should be able to get you into the FBI with a plausible background and enough public information that you are beyond reasonable suspicion. This is going to happen quickly, so I want you to be completely sure you're willing to commit to this. You can't go in there and change your mind, the earliest we can pull you out is a month. If you don't like what you find, you'll have to stick with it at least that long."

"Understood. I've been through a lot worse for a month, I'm sure I can tough it out here."

"I didn't doubt you would," he said, sliding a file across the table. "Get writing, I'll be back in an hour with a status update."

"Thank you, Kingsley," she mumbled, giving him a smile.

"It's no problem, Hermione," he returned with a fatherly smile of his own before sweeping from the room.

"You're really going to go through with this?" Harry asked as Hermione opened the file and reached for one of Kingsley's quills.

"You'd do it for Ginny," she said, writing her name quickly across the top.

"What are you going to do if you don't like what you see when you get there?"

"I can't think of many situations that I'd see that I wouldn't like. I'd be sad if he moved on, but at least he's happy."

"Would you fight for him?"

She shot her best friend a look. "I'm Hermione Granger. Do you think I back down from a challenge?"

He smirked. "I think you'd do everything you could to fight fair... and fight dirty as hell if that wasn't working."

"You know me so well," she smiled, her quill working furiously.

He was silent as she filled out two more pages. "What happens if things pick back up between you two?"

Her quill paused. "What do you mean?"

"If you start going out with him again, if things get serious quickly, like they did before, what are you going to do? Are you going to live like a Muggle, are you going to commute back and forth... What?"

"I think you're putting the cart before the horse here," she returned.

"Am I?" he shot back. "You're giving up a job you wouldn't even give up for Ron..."

"You know I can pick it back up when I get back. Even if the Ministry didn't want me anymore, I could do my job as a private contractor and still make enough money to live off of."

His voice dropped to a whisper, "You know, if you leave without saying goodbye to Ron, there's a good chance he's not going to speak to you for a while. Hell, he might be upset about this either way."

Her quill faltered again, but she started writing again like she didn't hear him.

"He waited for so long for you to at least cut back on your work. You never did. He understood you had a connection with Spencer, but if he hears you're willing to walk away from your job for him he'll feel like you betrayed him or gave him the ultimate rejection."

"Perhaps it's because of Ron I realized my priorities were a little askew," she whispered. "Things worked out, didn't they? He has Susan, he's marrying her in a month, they're already expecting their first little one, and he seems more love with her than he ever was with me. I think we both realized that we loved each other, but not in the right way. But neither of us were strong enough to end it romantically for the longest time, because we knew we could never go back to what we were at Hogwarts."

"He really did love you."

"When you love someone it shouldn't be conditional based on them changing a major aspect of their life. If you really love someone, you work around it. You put off your dreams of a family five years. You are willing to buy a flat or a house together. You don't assume that season tickets to the Cannons are a great way to spend our entertainment fund..."

"You just quit your job and agree to live like a Muggle for a year?" he interrupted.

"Yes. Spencer would understand my job better than Ron because he's living it as well. The BAU team spends much of their time on the road. He knows that sometimes, in a job like ours, you don't have time to put things off. Ron is a great man, but you know patience was never his strong suit. Anyone on that team understands patience with their partners, because their partners have to show them patience themselves.

Remember that you once told me you knew Ginny was the one when she waited for you that year we were on the run, and never once questioned the time you and I spent alone together? You knew it watching that little dot on the Marauders Map. I had one of those moments with Spencer, I just wasn't willing to see it for what it was."

"When was it?"

"When he was shot, and they were carrying him on the gurney to the ambulance. His entire team was standing around us, but he only asked for me, held his hand out looking for mine. He asked me to stay with him, and I'm not sure he meant just on the ride to the hospital. I hear those words all the time, they haunt me. Because if I was thinking clearly I would have said I would have stayed with him as long as he'd have me. It was my moment."

"How do you think you're going to handle it? Working as a Muggle, trying to catch Muggles, I mean."

"It's probably going to be difficult. I know how to think like a dark witch or wizard, but I doubt it translates to Muggles. I'm going to have to study a lot before I go in there, maybe a week or so."

Harry burst out laughing. "Only you could get 'a lot' of studying done in a week, 'Mione."

"I know, I know," she said with a quick smile. "But there has to be a little overlap. I'm sure I can pick things up quickly enough."

"Sure," he muttered. After a pause he asked quietly, "Do you want me to tell him?"

"Is it vital that he knows?" she replied bitterly.

"He's just trying to be friendly. To move past what happened. You two agreed you would be friends, but you haven't been doing much on that part."

"Sorry if we can't all get over things that quickly," she snapped.

"You had a shining moment where we thought you might be over it, too."

"I'm trying to get it back, aren't I?"

"Still, perhaps you should talk to him."

She filled out her final page and added her signature before nodding. "I'll go see him when I'm done here."

"Promise?"

"No."

"Hermione..."

"I'll promise to think about it," she hissed as Kingsley entered the room.

"I knew you'd have that paperwork done," the Minister smiled as he sat back down. "Proudfoot isn't happy that his most intelligent Auror is leaving, but he'll survive without you. You're going to spend tomorrow assigning your cases and preparing, and next week you'll start a week training with the American Ministry. They're already working on getting you into the FBI. Our Muggle Liaison office and the Obliviators are working on setting up a false background with you at Scotland Yard. They'll present you with that sometime tomorrow, and you can't go into the FBI until you can recite everything we give you from memory."

"I understand, sir."

"Let me know when, or if, you're coming back."

"I will, sir," she said, standing up. Harry followed her out.

"Have you thought about it yet?" Harry asked.

"No," she said sharply.

"Hermione..."

"Could you get a phone, Harry?" she cut him off.

"Excuse me?"

"A phone. Could you get one?"

"Why?"

"So I have someone to call in case I need something. If I'm on a case with the team I can't very well Floo call you, can I?"

"I would be upset if I didn't hear from you for a while," he nodded. "And it should be fun teaching Ginny how to use it. She's good friends with Luna now. If I really need a laugh I'll teach them both together."

"Could you imagine Luna with Muggle technology?" she chuckled.

"I've been trying to keep the idea of aliens away from her."

"Somehow I bet she's already got a theory about that."

"Just remember your promise to think about it," he said as she got into a lift.

"Sure. Dinner before I go?"

"Your treat?"

"Of course. I'll talk to you tomorrow," she said quickly before the lift doors shut between them. She spent the rest of the day sending case files back to different Ministries, each with a hand-written apology and vague explanation of 'taking some personal time'. She left work an hour early, and headed to Diagon Alley. She strode through with a purpose, and came to a stop in front of the brightly colored storefront of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Ron had taken a leave of absence from the Auror Department four months prior to give George some help in the shop, which was expanding more and more by the year. It had five stores throughout the western part of Europe, and George was always looking to expand. At first he tried recruiting Hermione to help run the business, but when she refused to budge he took up Ron's offer to help. Susan was thrilled his new job kept him well out of harm's way, at least, out of harm's way as long as he stayed away from the development department.

Sighing, she strode to the front door, which let off a rude noise as she entered.

"George Weasley!" she groaned, but she couldn't help but smile at his antics.

"You called, Mon Cheri?" the one-eared redhead said, popping up from behind a stack of boxes.

"I was merely expressing displeasure at your choice of entrance chime. Though it's not unexpected, coming from you, the perpetual child."

"What have I told you before, love?" he said, sauntering over to give her a hug.

"No profiling shall occur between these walls," she smirked.

"You remember everything so well."

"Part of my job."

"Speaking of which, did you manage to stop someone from blowing up a Quidditch pitch full of people? Because you're looking awfully chipper today."

"Not quite. I took a leave of absence."

"Come to work for me as well? I'd be thrilled to offer you a position on my staff," he finished suggestively with a smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows.

She chuckled. "How's little Fred?"

"Potty training's going to kill me, and Angelina's due in two months so I'm not sure how I'm going to live through the terrible twos again."

"Your mother survived you, your twin, and all your siblings, I think you can handle two."

"How come you never ask about little George?" he asked with a devilish smirk.

"Because I've had enough Weasley for one lifetime," she smiled up at him.

"You can never get enough Weasley. Why'd you leave the Ministry?"

"So I could go to America and join the FBI."

"Does this have something to do with that Muggle bloke Ginny mentioned a while back? Spencer, wasn't it?"

Her smile faltered. "Yeah. Something to do with that. Where's your brother?"

"In the back," he motioned with his head.

"Thanks," she muttered. She slid past him and started towards the back room.

"Do I get to meet him?" George called after her.

"I have to meet him first," she replied, and walked through the door to the back before he had a chance to ask her what she meant. She walked down the hallway until she saw who she was looking for through a cracked door. She knocked, and Ron looked up at her, his face breaking out in a smile.

"'Mione!" he said, standing up and hurrying around his cluttered desk to give her a hug. He motioned for her to sit in the chair across from his.

"How are you?" she asked, sliding into the chair. "And how's Susan?"

"We're good," he nodded. "Neck deep in wedding planning, so she's a bit stressed, but I tried the food and it was excellent, and the colors should be beautiful if we get good weather."

"It sounds nice," she said, and was surprised to feel a genuine smile cross her face.

"How are you? You look great."

"I'm really good. I'm in a better place today than I have been in a while."

"What's going on?"

"Harry said I should come. I'm going to be leaving for a while, and he thinks you deserve to know about it."

"Leaving?" he looked surprised. "Where to?"

"I'm going to America for a while. Kingsley gave me the opportunity to work in the FBI for a while, and I took it."

Ron was silent for a moment. "You're really serious about him, aren't you?"

"It's hard to be serious about him when he doesn't even know I exist," she replied.

"I'd call it pretty serious if you're giving everything up for him," he studied her.

She felt guilty for a second, because she was doing exactly what he had begged her for, and she was doing it for a man she had known for less than two weeks and hadn't spoken to in seven months. "I'm sorry, Ron," she whispered. "I know..."

"Everything happens for a reason, right?" he interrupted. "Perhaps you and I were meant to be best friends, like we were in school, but not lovers. I mean, after we broke up we both quickly found people we're crazy about. That can't be coincidence, right?"

"You were a little smarter about it than I was," she managed to smile.

"You did what you thought you had to," he shrugged. "You deserve to be happy, 'Mione. Even if it's someone else making you happy."

"Thanks, Ron," she said, feeling relieved. "I'm nervous. I'm not sure if this is the best plan of action. What do I do if I go there and it's not the same?"

"Just hope for the best. Things will work out for you, 'Mione. And you can always come see me if you need anything."

"Everything happens for a reason," she muttered to herself, hoping that she hadn't realized her reason too late.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Did I mention that when I started writing this Strauss was still alive? Yeah, I'm keeping her alive. Because I hate how she finally became human (as in not the power-hungry, only concerned with politics stereotype of a female leader), and then they killed her off. So I'll just plug my ears and pretend a good chunk of Season 7 and everything beyond that didn't happen. As I said this story has been in the works for a LONG time, and if I ever want it fully posted I'm going to have to just keep it where it was and work from there.**

Spencer Reid's eyes popped open with the shrill cry of the alarm clock, but he had been far from sleeping before the device was set to wake him up. Groaning he sat up in bed, and stared at the small patch of light on the floor caused by the orange glow of the streetlamp outside his window invading under the drawn curtain. He had gotten four hours sleep that night, which is what he had been averaging for the past few months, ever since he had been shot by some unsub in Chicago. Funny thing was he hardly remembered the case. He remembered the unsub was a woman, somewhat crazy, and probably young twenties, but he didn't remember her shooting him, least of all stealing his gun and shooting him with it. But ballistics don't lie- the bullet that had been pulled from him during surgery had been fired from his own gun. Over and over again the doctors told him that it was a miracle that he was even alive at all- but his gut was telling him something else. It was all part of his dreams.

The dreams had been plaguing him for months, but they weren't his normal nightmares of dead people or shadows in the night. They were starring a new face, or rather the lack thereof. There was a brunette woman, but as much as he tried to focus on what she looked like he couldn't ever remember a single detail about her face. He had seen dozens of brunettes with her generic, albeit somewhat bushy, hairstyle and slender figure, so placing her was impossible. But he couldn't get her out of his dreams. He had a feeling this woman was a memory because his dreams were on repeat. Strange, unreal events, all centered around this girl. Objects floated around her, she disappeared into thin air and reappeared from it, she talked into green flames, the strangest woman he ever saw, but for some reason he felt as though he knew her. But the most troubling dream didn't involve mysterious flashing lights or a glowing blue pen, it centered completely around sex.

Spencer was a man, he never denied that. And with being a heterosexual male with some sense of sexual need came certain desires, he knew enough about human behavior to know that. But he had never had sex dreams at the rate he was having them now. He was averaging one a night, at least one a night when he managed to get some sleep. But it was always the same thing- from start to finish. And when he woke up it was the same story, he remembered nearly every detail, even the scent of Shepherd's Pie in the air, but he couldn't remember the girl's face. And there was the sinking feeling in his stomach that there were stronger feelings behind the act than he knew. It certainly felt more like making love than just sex.

He stretched and started his morning routine- shower, get dressed, grab coffee, messenger bag over shoulder, then out the door. He didn't read on the subways anymore, however. Every brunette girl was scrutinized, and each one was quickly dismissed. For some reason he was sure that he would know the girl haunting his dreams the moment he laid eyes on her. Seven months of not finding her didn't mean he was going to stop looking. The mystery girl was the key to the happiness he hadn't felt since leaving their case in Chicago, he was sure of it.

"Hey, Reid, you're here early," Derek Morgan came running up behind him as he entered FBI headquarters.

"I have about twenty case files on my desk. I thought I could try to get some of them done," he replied as they started through security.

"So that's, what, a mornings worth of reading for you?"

"Something like that," he mumbled.

"You've been low energy, recently, man. You want to come hit the gym with me? Get the blood flowing a little bit."

"Have you ever known me to _want_ to hit the gym?"

"There's a first time for everything. I thought it might get your mind off whatever has gotten you in this funk recently."

Spencer frowned. He thought he had been hiding things well. "Maybe next time," he muttered.

"I'll hold you to it," Derek called after him, watching him until he got on the elevator. He shook his head and headed down the staircase to the gym in the basement. He had been worried about Reid recently, the whole team was. 'Funk' was an understatement regarding what was going on with the youngest team member the past seven months. It seemed like Spencer Reid had checked out, replaced by a shell of his former self. The shell didn't spurt facts the way the old Spencer did. It walked, it talked, it helped on cases, but it just wasn't the same. Hotch had pulled them each into his office a couple weeks before, saying they needed to make statements about a recent case, but as soon as the door was shut the only subject was Spencer:

_"Have you noticed any... changes in Reid lately?" Hotch had asked, looking grim._

_"You mean that he's not the know-it-all human computer since he got shot in Chicago?" he had answered, looking out the window into the bullpen where Reid was absentmindedly flipping through some paperwork._

_"Exactly," he nodded. "Do you have any idea what might be going on with him?"_

_"Not a clue. I've tried to talk to him and he makes excuses and walks away."_

_"Garcia said she's tried to force him to go out, but he refuses or leaves as soon as they get where they're going."_

_"It's strange. He at least put on a show for us before. I thought he actually liked spending time with us before, but now..."_

_"I know. Do you remember anything that might have happened to change him like that?" Hotch asked, sounding very concerned._

_"He got shot, but I can't imagine that would change his personality that much. Unless he's going through some sort of mortality crisis..." he trailed off, a terrifying thought coming to him. "Or he's getting sick. Do you think his mom's..?"_

_"It's a possibility, though we'll need a psychiatric evaluation to know for sure, and I'm not willing to force him to go through that."_

_"But shouldn't you do it if you think it might help him? Doesn't early detection mean early intervention?"_

_"And if he doesn't have it it's on his record that something's getting to him. He's put under the microscope by the higher-ups, and any signs that he's not doing well and he'll be reviewed until he feels pressured to quit. I don't want to do that to him if he's just going through a funk."_

_"What do you want from me, Hotch? I'm worried about the kid."_

_Hotch folded his hands, thinking. "I'd say he needs a friend, but he's seemed to shut himself off. Just keep an eye on him. If he gets worse let me know. If it gets much worse I'll have no choice but to get that evaluation."_

_"I'll keep an eye out," Morgan agreed. He really was worried about Reid, everyone on the team was. But no one knew how to approach him. As good as they were at dealing with human behaviors, they all seemed to want to distance themselves when it came to their own team._

_"Thanks," Hotch said, nodding towards the door in a dismissal. Derek got up and started to walk up. "Oh, and Morgan?" Hotch called after him._

_"Yeah, boss?" he said, turning around._

_"Emily's decided to spend some time teaching some classes over at the Academy and around the country, so she's being pulled from the team for a while."_

_"Emily's leaving?" he asked in surprise._

_"Just for a while. Believe me, I was as shocked as you were when I found out. But Strauss told me that we're getting someone from Scotland Yard for the interim. Someone who is joining the FBI for a little international training."_

_"She's actually placing someone with our team?" he was even more surprised with this news. Strauss did not hold Hotchner's team in the highest regard, and whoever this Scotland Yard trainee was must have gotten on her bad side to be placed with their group._

_"Scotland Yard was actually somewhat insistent, from what I hear. Profiling is apparently her forte, she's going to put together a team much like ours over there since she's been doing it by herself for a while."_

_"What's her name?"_

_"Hermione Granger. She'll be starting next week, she's been doing a couple weeks of private training so she understands how we do things over here. They didn't want to put her through the academy since she's already had so much experience over there. If you could help Emily put her stuff into the storage closet before she goes so Hermione has a place to work, I'd appreciate it."_

_"Yeah, Hotch," he nodded before leaving._

Hermione was supposed to be joining their team that day, and speculation was flying about her. Garcia had looked her up, and they were surprised to find that she was young, just a few months older than Reid. According to the information they could find, she was a rising star in Scotland Yard. She had joined at a young age, was assigned to a difficult area, but after catching a serial rapist was thrown into training to become an detective. After proving herself time and time again she was taken off a specific geographic area, and assisted anyone who needed help, including dabbling in some international cases. There was a note that she had worked herself half to death, and had taken several wounds in her line of work, so her higher-ups were calling for her to become the head of a team to take some of the pressure off. And, for some reason or another, they felt it was best if they shipped her overseas to complete her training in how to run and be a part of a team. They had spent an afternoon speculating about why she'd come so far for training, until Reid, who hadn't spoken all day, came out of it long enough to suggest that older, more experienced detectives around her might be upset that the young, female investigator was getting so much attention and admiration. Before they had a chance to discuss his theory with him, Spencer was back to his files, scribbling something down and ignoring the looks he was getting. No endless stream of facts, no examples, no bizarre statistics, nothing that Reid would normally say. It was the first time he had talked to them about something that wasn't directly involving a case in weeks. Derek swore that Spencer perked up a little when he heard the name 'Hermione', like he was trying to place it, but he chalked it up to something the young agent had read somewhere.

He got dressed in the locker room quickly, and emerged to find his friend, Andrew Young, waiting for him while stretching and surveying the gym.

"It figures, man," Andrew said as Derek approached him.

"What figures?" Derek asked.

"It figures that I get back from my honeymoon, and _that_ is here running around and tempting me," he said, nodding towards a young brunette in running shorts and a tight jacket running around the track.

"That is nice," Derek smiled, watching as the woman ran past them.

"Do you know who she is?"

"No idea, but I may have to find out," he smiled.

"One more lap, Hermione!" an agent holding a stopwatch called to her as she ran past. "You're doing great."

"Hermione," Derek chuckled. "I guess I'll find out a lot about her soon enough. She's joining my team for a while."

"A while?" Andrew asked.

"She was sent here by Scotland Yard for some training. Apparently they really wanted her to join our team."

"I can think of worse things than working next to her for a while."

"I don't doubt that," he smirked. He watched as Hermione ran past the agent one more time, then slowed to a jog as she turned around to come back, finally slowing to a walk as she approached him.

"Congratulations, Somewhat-Agent Granger. You've passed the FBI's physical with flying colors," the agent said, writing something on his clipboard. "You're all clear for service from this aspect."

"Thank you," she panted. He handed her a towel, which she used to blot the sweat from her face.

"Good luck," he nodded. She stretched a few times before heading towards the locker room, walking right towards Derek and Andrew.

"Granger, is it?" Derek flashed a wide grin at her as she approached. She looked up at him, returning the smile.

"It is," she nodded. "You must be Derek Morgan."

"Now how would you know that?" he chuckled.

"When I found out who I was going to be working with, I did a little fact-checking. If you're going to be spending a lot of time around me, you'll quickly find that I am a woman who likes to do her research."

"Oh, no," he groaned. "You can be Reid's partner. Hope you can keep up."

"I hope so as well. I can only read about 10,000 words per minute, but I do have a famously good memory. What I lack in book smarts, which, if I may toot my own horn, is not much, I make up in street smarts, and experience dealing with criminals that may or may not have gone off their rocker."

"Ah, a good woman. We'll see how well you fit in later today, won't we?" he smirked.

"I guess we will," she said, turning to jog towards the locker rooms.

"God, I'd kill to work next to something like that. I get stuck with Becky the Bitc..." Andrew said, watching her leave.

"What the hell is Collins doing?" Derek interrupted, sounding confused as an agent coming out of the men's locker room tripped over himself, then saluted the moment he saw Hermione.

"I have no idea, but she sure looks pissed about it," he replied as Hermione forced Collins' arm down and said something while looking very irritated.

"She seems to be getting over it," he chucked as Hermione and Collins seemed to suddenly warm up, having a friendly looking exchange. "I always said he's almost as good as I am."

"Yeah, right," Andrew rolled his eyes before they glanced at Hermione one more time and went to do their work out.

XXXXXXXX

"Granger should be up here any minute," Erin Strauss said after calling Hotchner into her office. "While she is here, she is to act like an Agent. We don't want any problems should she be the one who manages to find an unsub, which is why she's been getting briefed on how we do things. She'll have the full power to make arrests and such. From what we hear she's brilliant with interrogation, as well. A true rising star."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Hotch asked, sounding suspicious.

"The Bureau considers this to be somewhat of a trial run. Should she perform well during her time here they are going to try to lure her away from Scotland Yard."

"Do you think that wise?" he muttered, remembering the last agent formerly from Scotland Yard that he had worked with.

"What happened with Kate is part of the danger we face," she said, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "Just because it happened before doesn't mean it's going to happen again."

"That doesn't mean it won't happen again."

"Enough, Aaron," she snapped. "Do not give a cold reception to this girl. I argued against her joining your team, but Scotland Yard was insistent. If she works well with your team, you may get that replacement for Jennifer after all."

Hotch scowled. The team had a hard time after JJ had been called away, and an even harder time trying to make up her immense workload. Another set of hands would be nice, but at the same time it would be difficult to view anyone else in her position. Hermione would be accepted by the group, he knew that, but part of it would be because she was a visitor, not a permanent intruder into their tight-knit team. They could open up as much or as little as they want, and she would leave, probably never to see them again. But that idea was shattered by the idea that, if she did well on what Strauss was implying amounted to a year-long job interview, she would become that intruder, and their relationship would change completely. It was a volatile time for his team. JJ was gone, Emily was leaving for a while, Reid wasn't himself, it was not a good time to be asking much from the remaining team members.

"Should I be warning my team about that?" he asked Strauss.

"No. It's strictly under wraps at this point. Just in case Scotland Yard has trumped up her abilities."

"Do you think they'd really do that?"

"You never know. Though I don't know why they'd pay all that money if she wasn't as good as they say she is. Keep an eye on her, I expect reports," she said quickly as there was a knock on the door. She stood and called, "Come in."

The door opened, and Hermione walked in, looking confident and excited. She smiled and nodded at Hotchner as she took a formal, legs apart and arms behind her back stance, like a soldier reporting for duty. "Good morning, ma'am," she nodded at Strauss.

"Good morning, Agent Granger. I trust you passed your physical," Strauss replied, not bothering to get up.

"With top marks, ma'am."

"Good. That leaves your gun certification, but it's time for you to meet your team. This is Aaron Hotchner, BAU unit chief."

"Nice to meet you, sir," she shook his hand.

"Likewise," he said, and his eyes followed her as she turned back towards Strauss, like he was trying to place her from somewhere before and drawing a blank.

"If you have any questions, Agent Hotchner would be the one to ask," Erin continued, not noticing Hotchner's sideways gaze. "Aaron, I trust you'll be able to show her the ropes, tell her how things are done here?"

"Yes, I will," Hotch nodded.

"Good. I'll leave you to it, then," she said, picking up her phone as a signal their short meeting was over.

"Come," Hotch jerked his head towards the door, and Hermione followed him out. "First I'll introduce you to Penelope Garcia, and trust me when I tell you that if you must make friends with only one of us during your time here, she is the one you should. Life will be much easier if you are on Garcia's good side."

"Yes, life will be," Garcia called from her room as they entered. "Hey, good lookin', what you got cookin'?" she said to Hotch before she saw Hermione coming in behind him.

"Garcia, this is Hermione Granger, she's the one who will be doing her training with us."

"Hullo," Hermione smiled.

"Oh, finally someone who will understand my use of the word loo," Garcia said, standing up and giving Hermione a hug. "Welcome to my little hole in the wall."

"Garcia is the go-to person if you need something looked up in fifteen seconds or less," Hotch explained.

"Ten," Garcia corrected with a smile.

"So in other words this is the arse I should be kissing?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, I like her. She's adorable! I could listen to that accent all day. You may be my new favorite person to dial. And I absolutely love your cuff," she added, grabbing Hermione's arm and dragging it towards herself. "How in the world did you put that on?"

"It's sewn on," Hermione muttered, looking down at the cuff that was secretly hiding her wand. As much as she was willing to act like a Muggle, she was not willing to walk around without her wand on her person, and she had the cuff specially designed to keep it close and easily accessible should she need it. "I don't take it off."

"What is that on there?"

"Ancient runes. This way," she said, holding her hand towards the ceiling, "the top line says 'what is right'. This way," she said, now turning it so her hand was pointing towards the floor, "the other line says 'what is easy'. A long time ago my headmaster warned us that we'd have to make the choice between the two of them at some point, and this is to remind me of that."

"I'm still in awe that you know ancient runes. That's totally awesome!"

"Thank you," she beamed. "I like your style, and all your knick-knacks around here. You remind me a lot of a friend I had back at private school."

"I am going to get along with her," Garcia announced with certainty. "As long as you don't mess with my group, you'll be okay. And watch out for Morgan."

"I already met Morgan while I was downstairs working out," she nodded. "He seems a bit of a character."

"You're young and good looking, honey. Of course he noticed you. Just keep an eye out for him."

"I won't encroach on your property," she winked.

"Oh... good girl. Now, as long as you keep up the well-deserved flattery we'll be okay."

"I'll make sure to do that."

"Do you have that case file for me?" Hotch asked her.

"Right here, boss," she said, sitting down and holding a file over her head.

"Thanks, Garcia. I'll probably send Hermione by later today or tomorrow to see you in action."

"I'll be waiting," she smiled before turning back to her computer.

"Are you ready to meet the rest of the group?" Hotch asked as he led her towards the bullpen.

"I already met Derek, so all I have to do is meet Rossi and Reid."

"Well, you can meet them, and you can spend some time getting settled. Things are a little fast-paced around here at times, and we need to be ready to go at a moment's notice. We all have a go-bag ready for when we get called away, so you'll want to make one up tonight. Just a few days' worth of clothes and toiletries to get you through."

"As good as done, sir," she said.

"You don't need to call me sir," he said as he knocked on Rossi's door and let himself in. "Dave, this is Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger this is David Rossi."

"Pleasure to meet you," they said in unison, shaking hands. They talked about her past a little bit before Rossi had to make a phone call, and Hotch led her out.

"I guess the only one left to meet is Reid," Hotch said, leading her down the stairs into the bullpen.

Spencer was bent over his desk, writing something down, but her heart flew into her throat anyways and she had to control her breathing to keep from hyperventilating. It was an effort to keep herself from going rigid or from obviously showing signs of her anxious state, but she managed as Hotch led her to the desk.

"Reid," he said sharply, causing Spencer to look up at him. "This is Hermione Granger."

Spencer's eyes slid to Hermione, and his breath visibly caught as they locked eyes. She held out a hand, and could feel his hand trembling in hers as he shook her hand. He slowly stood, and then each found themselves unable to move, eyes locked on each other's, hands clasped, as the room around them faded away, and the only sound either of them heard was the pounding of their own hearts.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was the first to realize that their silence and lack of movement was probably drawing attention to them, so she whispered, "Nice to meet you, Spencer."

"The same," he managed, forcing his hand to let go of hers, then shoving the traitorous appendage into his pocket before anyone could notice how badly it was shaking.

Hotchner, who either didn't notice their moment or chose to ignore it, turned Hermione so she was looking at Emily's former desk, explained that was her work area, and a bit of what she was expected to do. Spencer didn't hear a word of it, he couldn't stop looking at Hermione. The hair, the figure, her skin... it was all perfect. But he was sure he had never seen her before, he would have remembered that name, that smile, those eyes. How could this girl be so familiar, and so strange at the same time?

"...and I'll leave you to start setting your stuff up. Just check over a few files with Reid or Morgan for now, and I'll start your own files tomorrow," Hotch finished.

"Thank you, sir, er, Agent Hotchner," Hermione nodded.

"Call me Hotch. The rest of the team does."

"Yes, Hotch."

"Come speak with me if you need anything," he said, walking off.

Hermione sunk slowly into the chair at the empty desk, running her hands over the desktop. She turned on the computer that had been set up for her, and pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket that had her login and password on it, and started typing slowly. It was obvious she wasn't used to using the machine.

"Much different from Scotland Yard?" Spencer asked, still unable to stop looking at her, but wanting to say something lest he come across as creepy.

"It's a bit different," she admitted. "It is my first day, so it'll be a while before I can tell you the exact difference, but so far it's been a little more than I expected. That must be because it's been a while since I was training, I've been too busy to take a few weeks off to attend classes or learn procedures. Mostly I get a memo and a stern talking-to if I do something wrong."

"Is that why they sent you over here? Because it would be hard for you to train there and keep yourself separate from your work?"

"Probably. I throw myself into things, and I left a large stack of files when I left. I've been accused of being close to a burnout or a breakdown, and that's why it's been decided that I need to get my own team."

"So this is a bit of a break for you."

"I guess you could call it that," she smiled, and he felt butterflies spring to life in his stomach.

"How.. er, how are you liking it over here? The States, I mean," he said, trying to sit in his chair and nearly toppling to the ground.

She couldn't help but let off a chuckle at his obvious display of nerves. "I haven't seen much of it, I came over here, spent a couple days settling into my apartment, and jumped right into training here."

"So, you got an apartment?" he asked just to hear her talk.

"Have to live somewhere. My department hooked me up with a little place in a nice neighborhood."

"That's nice of them."

"They want me to succeed here. And they want me to stay happy, because they want me to come back," she added with a whisper.

"Why wouldn't you?" he asked in confusion.

She opened her mouth, about to say 'because they know all about you', but managed to keep the words from coming out. "They think I might want to stay away from the chill and the rain, I guess."

"It should be a little warmer here. Do you know that geographically..."

"Don't let him get started," Morgan's voice cut over him, coming to perch on the edge of Hermione's desk. "You'll be here all day."

"I don't mind learning something new," Hermione shrugged.

"You won't learn one thing new, you'll hear ten things new, and you probably won't remember a single one of them as you marvel at how much information Reid here can keep stored in his brain."

"I really don't mind," she said to Spencer. "I had a bit of the same problem back when I was in boarding school."

"Oh, dear Lord, please don't tell me I'm going to have to suffer through it from two angles now," Derek groaned with a grin.

"I don't know, Morgan, perhaps we can keep you entertained if we ever have to travel."

"I'm investing in a pair of noise-cancelling headphones."

"Granger," Strauss appeared, holding a box, which she laid on the table and opened to reveal a gun and a holster. "You need to pass your gun certification test in order to function fully in this position. There's a firing range you can go to if you want to brush up on your skills."

"Thank you, ma'am," Hermione nodded, taking the box as Strauss walked away.

"Good plan there," Morgan muttered as soon as she was out of earshot. "Keep it short, sweet, and polite with her."

"It's the same with most bosses," Hermione nodded, standing up and taking the box. "Could someone direct me to this firing range?"

"I'll take you," Reid shot up so quickly his chair tipped back onto two legs before falling back onto all four.

"Great," she smiled, letting him take the lead, knowing that Morgan was staring at their retreating backs until they were around the corner.

"Have you gotten to meet Garcia yet?" Spencer asked with a nod down her hallway.

"Yes, and I have been warned to make friends with her," she replied as they entered an elevator.

"Right. So when she comes to you and asks you to go out for drinks tonight, it might be best to say yes. And buy her something sweet, brightly colored, and filled with enough alcohol to get her talking. Not that it's that difficult anyways."

"Does she always invite team members out for drinks?"

"Yeah, all the time. It's a rare occasion when we refuse."

"Are you going to come?" she asked as the elevator jolted to a stop.

"Ex.. excuse me?" he asked, unable to move as she walked through the open doors.

"If she invites me out for drinks. Are you going to come with?"

"Oh, um. Yeah. I guess so. If she invites you. And if you don't mind me coming with, of course. I... I'm okay, you know, going home by myself if you want a... a girls night or something."

"Are you always this articulate?" she chuckled.

"I'm sorry," he smiled at her. "I'm just a little unsure of how to act around, you know, new people."

"You don't need to act any differently than you would with anyone else on the team," she said, stopping in the middle of an empty hallway so she could look at him. "I swear, I'm only human."

"Yeah," he nodded, looking anywhere but towards her eyes. "Got it."

"I mean it," she said, placing a hand gently on his arm. He looked down at it in surprise, then up into her warm eyes. "Just be yourself. Be Spencer Reid. I'm sure I'll like him."

"I'll do that," he whispered, leaning slightly towards her, feeling an invisible force drawing him towards her, his muscles tensed as he fought the urge to reach out and touch her, to see if he caused the same reaction in her as she did in him. She leaned towards him as well, biting her bottom lip, trying to think of anything but kissing him.

Neither could tell how long they stood there, staring into each other's eyes, but the sound of a door opening down the hallway broke them apart, and they hurried to the firing range. Hermione signed in, was given some ammunition, and went into the range, which was empty.

"Are you even allowed to carry a gun?" Spencer asked as she set up the target and pressed the button to send it to the end of the range.

"I have the option. I chose not to. If I need the help of someone with a gun I can ask for it," she said, loading the gun.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"Point and squeeze, right?"

"It's a... a little, ah, more complicated than that," he said, looking nervous.

"I know, I know," she turned to smile at him as she put on protective eyewear. "I took a class during my training. I think I'm getting the hang of it."

"Well, let's see it, then."

She turned towards the target, fired the six shots, and pressed the button to bring the target back. "Damn," she muttered, studying the target. "I can hit in the chest area, but it's always either up or down, never dead on."

"Well," he said, coming up to stand behind her, "You could, um, try to stand with your feet shoulder width apart, keep your eyes open, breathing steady, pay more attention to the sight than the target..."

"What is that supposed to mean? If I'm paying attention to the sight how am I supposed to make sure the target isn't moving out of it? No target is going to just sit there and wait until I line up a good shot, right?"

"Er, yeah. I think the concept is that if you focus too much on the target and not the gun you won't notice if your aim is off. And then you have to follow-through. Don't drop the gun too quickly."

"You sound like Hotch," she muttered under her breath, putting up another target and sending it down the range. She lined up and fired six more shots. When she looked they were in roughly the same areas as her last shots.

"Damn," she muttered again, crumpling it up and tossing it towards a trash bin. "It's so much bloody easier..." she cut herself off before she could add 'when it's a spell you're firing'.

Spencer waited for a moment, and when it became clear that she wasn't going to finish he prompted, "It's easier when?"

"When you don't have to worry about guns, and targets, and where your aim is..."

"If you're worried about where your aim is, you're getting instructions from the wrong man," Morgan's voice preceded him into the room.

"Really? Why is that?"

"Reid here is a crack shot... when he's under immense pressure and about two seconds from death. But when you put him in a room under controlled conditions with no stressors, he can't hit the broad side of a barn."

"I'm not that bad!" Spencer protested.

"Not that great, either. Let me show you how it's done, London girl," he said, stepping behind Hermione. He placed a hand on her thigh and moved her right foot slightly forward, then placed both hands on her waist and gently pushed down so she was forced to bend her knees slightly.

"Better stance, better shot?" Hermione asked as she adjusted her feet slightly.

"Exactly. Now, you want to steady the gun..." he said, placing his hands on her wrists and bringing them up, showing her how to aim with his hands still on her arms, body pressed into hers from behind. Without warning Spencer turned and hurried from the room. As fast as his feet would take him he rushed back to the BAU bullpen, pulled out a file, and started reading more intently than he had in months. About twenty minutes later Morgan sauntered in, sitting in Hermione's chair, a smile across his face.

"You'll be happy to know your teachings didn't scar her for life. She put three in the chest and one dead between the eyes before I left," he announced.

"Great," Spencer shot back, not looking up from the paperwork.

"I wouldn't worry anything about her passing her certification."

"Fine," he snapped, slamming the file shut and turning away from Morgan.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong."

"Reid, I've been in this job long enough to recognize when someone's upset."

"You know, it just comes so easy for you, doesn't it?" he said, shutting a drawer with such force his computer monitor wobbled.

"What comes so easy?" Morgan asked, looking confused.

"You and women. They're always coming up to you in bars, falling all over you everywhere we go, drooling at the chance to dance or whatever. Not all of us are that naturally gifted."

"Whoa. When was the last time we were out at a bar together? I don't..." he trailed off as he realized what was going on. "Is this about Hermione?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes. No. Maybe," he mumbled almost incoherently.

"Three answers in one second. It must be Hermione. Do you like her, Reid?"

Spencer didn't respond verbally, but his body language gave him easily away.

"Listen, man, she's a cute, smart little thing. If you want to make a play for her, I think you should. She's... a lot like you in some ways. If you think I'm doing anything more than just a little harmless flirting, you're wrong. But I'll make sure I watch myself around her if that would make you feel better."

"I'd appreciate it," he whispered.

"So," he said, pulling a chair close and sitting, pretending to look over a file on Spencer's desk. "What's your game plan?"

"G.. game plan?"

"Yeah. Game plan. How do you plan to make the girl yours?"

"I'm not sure," he said honestly.

"You have to have some kind of plan. The girl is on a schedule. She's only here for a year at most before she hauls back to England, and she may never set foot on American soil again. You don't have time to sit around and wait for things to happen."

"What do you think I should do?"

"Well, don't let her know I told you, but Garcia is planning on forcing the team to go out tonight. Bev's Bar and Grill, good burgers, lots of dancing. Sit next to her, talk to her about things that don't involve work, ask her to dance..."

"I don't dance," Spencer cut him off.

"Do you want her or not?"

"Do you want me to drive her away? I can't dance."

"Fine. She's new to the area. Why don't you ask her if you could show her around one weekend? That would be a start."

Spencer perked up. "Show her around? Like to the museums?"

Morgan chuckled. "Tone it down, kid. You talk her ear off with random facts and bits of trivia and you're going to scare her all the way back to London. There are plenty of things to do that don't involve the chance to spout all sorts of wisdom."

"Okay. Any suggestions?"

But Morgan was kept from answering by Hermione showing up, beaming, the gun now on a belt at her waist. Morgan stayed put, but Spencer jumped up, looking nervous.

"I passed," she announced.

"Congratulations, baby girl," Morgan smiled.

"Thank you for the help, Agent Morgan," she held her hand out and shook his. "And thank you, Agent Reid," she added, giving him a quick, one-armed hug. Spencer looked at Morgan in surprise, Morgan flashed him a thumbs-up behind Hermione's back.

"You can thank me by calling me Derek," Morgan said as she sunk into her chair.

"Done and done," she nodded.

"And you can call Reid 'genius'."

"Don't do that," Spencer blushed. "Everyone usually calls me Reid."

"Mind if I call you Spencer?" she asked, twisting a pen in her fingers.

"Yeah, I mean, no. I mean, I don't mind if you call me Spencer," he fumbled.

"Great," she flashed him a dazzling smile, and he felt his cheeks starting to redden.

Hermione spent the rest of the day sitting with Spencer, going over his files as he taught her how to do the paperwork for each of them. They debated a few points a couple times, but mostly they got along well. After they let out for the day everyone went home to get changed and relax, agreeing to meet two hours later at the bar and grill. Hermione took a quick shower, applied a little makeup, and changed into something more casual- a pair of jeans, a tank-top, and a jacket. There was now an excess of long-sleeved shirts in her wardrobe, meant to cover up the 'Mudblood' scars. Normally she would use magic, but she didn't want anyone to sense something off about her, and so she was forgoing all use except if she was alone or in danger. She carefully stashed her newly acquired gun in a safe and secured it with her wand. She took a taxi to the bar, climbing out as Reid pulled up. She waited outside the door for him.

"You're going to like this place," he said as he held the door for her. "They make a great burger."

"I'm famished. I could use a good meal," she said as she stood on the tips of her toes, finding Garcia's purple-streaked hair sitting at a large table in a corner.

"Thank goodness you're here," Penelope said as they arrived at the table, and Morgan vacated his seat so Hermione and Spencer could sit next to each other. "Though you are late, if I might mention that."

"Sorry. I'm not from around here," Hermione shrugged with a grin.

"I'll accept the excuse once, but if you make it a habit of delaying my enjoyment of one of these burgers, we're going to have a problem."

"I'll make sure to leave fifteen minutes earlier," Hermione laughed. Hotch introduced her to JJ, who had left Henry at home with Will so she could come spend some time with her old team, and Kevin, then the group ordered a round of drinks as well as their food, and as they ate they grilled Hermione about life in England, and what she hoped to accomplish during her time in the states.

"If I had known I was going to get interrogated by some of the best minds in America I would have ordered something non-alcoholic," Hermione chuckled, ordering and paying for a second round for the group.

"And yet you're not stopping," Morgan noticed as she took a long drink.

"I can't remember the last time I was able to go out and not feel guilty about having a drink. My friends have all started having babies, and it seems like when one person isn't drinking, the rest of us can't."

"It doesn't work like that with this group," JJ laughed. "When I was pregnant I think these guys tried to make up for my share."

"I think we drank way more than your share," Rossi chuckled.

"Someone had to do it," Morgan raised a glass.

"Wotcher, Granger," Hermione felt a hand clap down on her shoulder. She swore as she jumped in her chair, turning quickly to look into the beaming face of George Weasley.

"Bloody hell, you one-eared menace," she groaned with a smile she couldn't suppress. "What are you doing here?" she added, standing to give him a tight hug.

"I was thinking of expanding the business over the pond, I heard you were over here, I thought I would hunt you down. I went to your apartment building, saw you climbing into a cab, and decided to imitate so many different movies and have you chased. It wasn't nearly as fun as the telly makes it out to be."

"I'm sorry to bore you. Next time I'll make sure it's enough to keep you at home. Everyone, this is my good friend, George Weasley. He owns a joke shop in London. George, this is the BAU team I'm going to be working with for the next few months."

"How's it goin', big Red?" Morgan smiled, extending a hand.

"You're going to have to talk into my good ear," George beamed, turning his missing left ear towards the group.

"If you think that's going to disgust them, I'd be willing to bet they've seen a lot worse," Hermione told him.

"Have you no sense of humor, Granger? I told you that if you hang around with stiffs all day you're going to turn into one of them."

"Anything to say the word stiff around me, George?"

"Too right, 'Mione, my love. Care for a dance?"

"I don't think..."

"Dance with me or I'll tell them all about Potter's last birthday, you know, the one at the Hog's Head where you..."

"You win, we'll dance!" she exclaimed, grabbing his hand and pulling him onto the dance floor to a chorus of laughter behind her. She glanced back, seeing Spencer looking jealously at George.

"I knew you'd come around, Granger," he smirked, putting his hands on her waist as they danced.

"Blackmail is hardly 'coming around'. I've been around these people less than ten hours. They hardly need to hear about that little incident."

"They don't? Because it was such a turn on when you grabbed that broomstick..."

"Shh!" she hissed, face beet red. "I'm living like a Muggle, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. So which one is this Spencer? No, wait, let me guess. Now, you're a no-nonsense, determined, bright young witch who had an illicit, ill-advised, and apparently extreme fling with one of those men over there. So which one of those men would have the brains to cause Hermione Granger's knickers to fall to the ground at the thought of him?"

"You going to do some profiling by yourself, are you?" she asked dryly.

"I love turning the tables on you, 'Mione. Now, let's see. The bald one seems to have more muscles than you like, though you are shagging Krum..."

"I _was_ shagging Krum," she corrected. "I broke it off when I found out I was coming here."

"All the same to your bed. You shagged Krum, but I don't think that's the type you go for when you're looking for anything more than a quick shag, so I'm guessing it's not him. I think the one with the goatee is out, he doesn't look like the type to go messing with a younger co-worker..."

"And how would you know what that type looks like?" she asked in genuine curiosity.

"They come in all the time, buying Wonder Witch products, claiming it's for their wife, but it's really anything to help them keep up with their pretty young things. They all have this shifty look around, because they know in the back of their minds that their girls will trade up as soon as something better comes along, and they're looking for the next young, pretty thing so they can trade in before their girls decide to. He doesn't look at you that way, like you're his next conquest. He's interested in you, but not physically. You're just novel, and once you've been in the team for a while he'll stop showing any kind of hesitation towards you."

"I'm impressed, George. Perhaps you went into the wrong field."

"As much fun as it is to pick up the pieces of someone who got on the wrong end of a blaster curse, I made my choice, and alas, I must make my Galleons running my shop. So, two down, three to go. The one with the glasses is obviously with the girl who looks like Luna's cousin, so he's out. That leaves the hard-arsed looking one who looks like he could get into a staring contest with McGonagall and win, or the skinny little bloke with the scraggly hair. Both seem to have promise as a possible Mr. Granger, so I guess I have just one question to figure things out as to which is the one who lured you across the pond."

"And...?" she prompted.

"How attracted were you, both physically and mentally, to Severus Sna... ouch!" he cried as she slapped the side of his head. "Okay, okay, it's the skinny bloke!"

"Perceptive, Weasley," she rolled her eyes. "You could have saved some time by noting that he was sitting right next to me."

"How cute is that? You were sitting next to each other. Maybe soon you'll be sharing your pumpkin juice."

"Don't make me destroy you," she growled.

"Alright, alright. Don't get your knickers in a twist, and if you do, I'll be glad to help you untwist them."

"Does Angelina know you talk to me like that?"

"Angelina thinks you're pretty and smart. She told me she'd totally date you if you both swung that way."

"Right," she said skeptically.

"In my mind she did."

"A lot of things happen in your mind. There's a better chance of a Malfoy marrying a Muggle than most of them happening."

"I'll get working on that," he smirked. "There are some very attractive Muggle girls out there who would love to get their hands on the Malfoy fortune and be willing to put up with a prat like Draco to do so."

"You're impossible. Which brings us to the question, what are you doing here?"

"Because no one else was going to come physically check up on you," he said seriously. "They think that you made your choice, and they'll console you if you come home in tears, but they think you'd get upset if they showed up to make sure you're doing okay. I don't respect personal space like that."

"No, you don't. And I'm fine."

"Yeah. I know. But relationships are tough, you know that as well as the rest of us. Sometimes you need the type of support that you just can't get over the phone or through a Floo-call. I want you to know that if you need that type of support, I'll be here for you at a moment's notice."

"George..." she smiled. "Are you saying you care about me more than just a piece of arse?"

"Keep it down," he said with a lopsided grin. "You know you've been my sister in every aspect but the biological sense for the better part of two decades."

"Which makes your constant hitting on me all the creepier."

"I'm pure-blood, love. Few things are out of the scope. Besides, you know you love me."

"Always will," she said, kissing his cheek.

"I knew I'd get a kiss out of this. I had hoped for somewhere else, but..." he chuckled as she shot him an annoyed look. "Just to let you know, if things don't work out with Peaky over there, I'll always be ready to console you. Just remember, once you go red, you won't leave our bed."

"Faulty argument," she pointed out with a grin. "Since I'm no longer with your brother, and Spencer is decidedly not redheaded."

"My brother is an idiot prat for letting you go. But, his loss is Peaky's gain. Let's get you back to that bloke you're trying to get," he said, grabbing her wrist and navigating her back to the team. "Thanks for letting me steal her," he said as she sat back down. "She's always bugging me about when my wife's going to have my kid. Could I offer anyone a sweet to make up for it?" he smirked, digging in his pocket.

"I have learned, a long time ago, that eating any type of sweet that is offered by anyone with the last name of Weasley is just begging to spend the next couple hours locked in the loo getting sick," Hermione announced, and Morgan, Kevin, and Garcia snatched their hands back suddenly.

"You never let me have any fun Granger," he said with a fake pout.

"I'm just acknowledging what a brilliant prank-maker you are," she said, toasting him with her half-filled glass.

"What kind of pranks do you make?" Rossi asked, looking genuinely interested.

"The question is more the type of pranks I don't make," George smiled, sitting in an empty chair and launching into a narrative about the Muggle pranks he made as well as a few of his inventions that didn't require magic or could be made without magic if he chose to. Hermione was always impressed with George, as long as he had lived in the wizarding world he could easily pretend to be a Muggle and had never slipped up while talking to someone who didn't know about their world.

"I've heard and seen this a couple hundred times," Hermione said, turning to Spencer. "I see an open billiards table. Care to play?"

"Me?" he asked in surprise.

"Of course you," she said, standing up and grabbing her drink.

"I'm not..." he started protesting, but Morgan gave him a sharp jab in the ribs.

"He'd love to play. You may have to teach him a thing or two, but he's the quickest learner out of all of us."

"Great," she said, smiling and holding her drink steady as she slipped past Spencer's chair. She grabbed Spencer's sleeve and led him over to the billiards tables. She paid for one of the tables, retrieved two sticks off a rack on the wall, and set up the balls.

"Are those good enough for you?" she asked, looking up at Spencer before she removed the triangle from the balls, but she quickly realized that he was looking down her top. When he realized she had caught him looking his face flushed bright red and he nodded as he turned away.

"So, should we do this age before beauty?" she asked after hanging up the triangle.

"I'd think you'd win in both those categories," he said bravely.

"That's very sweet of you to say," she said, standing close to him.

"How about we flip for it?" he asked.

"I used my last quarter for the table," she admitted, trying to suppress a smile as she had a feeling about what was coming.

"Oh, no you didn't. You forgot the one back here," he smiled. He reached behind her ear, seemingly pulling a quarter from it.

She laughed and tried her best to look impressed. "How did you do that?"

"Oh, no. A magician never reveals his secrets," he chuckled down at her.

"He did the magic thing," Derek muttered to Garcia and JJ as the three watched Hermione and Spencer from across the room.

"It's always been his best bet," Garcia nodded.

"It's not like she's not throwing it right back at him," JJ said, studying the two with a smile.

"What are the odds a girl comes to join our team and even on the first day she's flirting with Reid?" Morgan chuckled.

"I think they'd be cute together," she smiled warmly.

"Don't jinx things," Penelope warned.

"Doesn't look like things are going to be jinxed," she nodded towards the couple. Hermione was now leaning over behind Spencer, her chin resting gently on his shoulder, as she showed him how to line up a difficult shot.

"I'm liking her more and more by the minute," she smirked, taking a drink.


End file.
